Chapter 10: Fully Supported by the Servants
My two older brothers play with me as much as I want, my magic studies are progressing, and even though swordsmanship practice still leaves me covered in mud, it's fun.
In the midst of these fulfilling days, today I'm playing war alone, riding a wooden horse.
"Mwahahaha! The mighty me has arrived! Mwahahaha... ha..."
This was no joke.
This isn't just pretend. In the real thing, heroes wage war and cut down evil. There's no time for laughing maniacally when you're one of them.
I stand still in the garden, a 6-year-old me.
I'm the future villain and punching bag... Even though I'm getting along well with my brothers and have figured out an escape route, I'm still the weakest in the Triaina family. That hasn't changed, and I have no idea where or what the hero is up to.
"Young Master, is something the matter?"
"Kitty..."
"Yes?"
"This world is so... fleeting."
I let myself fall dramatically onto the grass, with no strength left to stand...
"! Young Master's stomach has reached its limit! All hands, prepare tea immediately!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
As Kitty carried me like a package under her arm, the preparations for tea were swiftly underway. I could feel my gaze becoming vacant as I stared into my uncertain future.
A deep sadness crept over me...
Suddenly, I noticed my position had changed. I was seated in a chair, a napkin tied around my neck, when the loud sound of clattering wheels caught my attention. A service cart arrived. Oh, the chef! Before I knew it, an apple pie was right in front of me!
"Apple pie!" I exclaimed.
"Young Master, today it's cherry pie," Kitty corrected with a smile.
"Oh! Wow! Thank you!" I eagerly responded.
As I cut into the pie, a sweet and pleasant aroma filled the air.
"Mmm! Delicious!"
Each bite was a perfect balance of sweetness, and the flavor of the syrup was divine. It was slightly cooled, making it easy to eat, so I devoured it quickly. By the time I was halfway through, I set down my fork and pressed my hands to my cheeks. As I swallowed, a blissful sigh escaped me.
I finished the rest slowly, savoring every bite. Once I'd cleared the plate, I eagerly looked to the maid for a refill, only to catch the chef's smiling face peeking from the side.
"Young Master, how was today's pie?"
"Hm? Hmm... Oh! This isn't apple pie! It's sour!" I exclaimed, surprised.
"Geez! Why do you always make something other than apple pie? And why is it always the first one you serve when I'm starving? It's delicious, so of course, I end up eating it!" I complained.
"Yes, today's pie is cherry," the chef calmly replied.
"Make a new—!" I began, but then I gasped, clapping both hands over my mouth.
Wait! I'm supposed to be a good kid! I almost threw a tantrum again.
"Right away! But... wait, Young Master, your orders..." The chef, ready to run, paused and looked at me, confused. I understood why—I'm usually the one telling him to hurry up.
"...It's fine," I said, trying to control myself.
"Wh- what's wrong, Young Master? The new apple pie is just about ready! It's cooling down as we speak."
"Everyone can eat it..." I mumbled.
"Young Master!? Are you feeling unwell!?" The chef's concern escalated quickly, but it was a little rude!
I may still want the pie, but I can be patient. I could tell them to save it for later tonight, but I won't... I'll endure it!
I cut into the second red "apple" pie and took a bite. It was a little tart but sweet, crispy, and delicious.
For some reason, the chef was on the lawn, dramatically groaning, "Ohhhh..."
"Um, excuse me?" I called out.
"Y-yes, Young Master?"
"The red one, it's sour, but it's tasty."
"Is... that so!?"
"Yeah. So, today I'll eat the red one. But make a regular apple pie for tomorrow, okay?"
"Understood!" The chef saluted me, sniffling.
Was it really that emotional? Did the fact that I didn't complain make him cry?
As I processed the chef's mysterious dedication, I realized I had become just a little bit better than I was yesterday.
After I got full, I was walking toward my room.
Since my house is very big, it's spacious. Too spacious.
No matter how much I walk, I start to feel like I'll never reach my room. That's how I feel right now. I want Kitty to carry me, but if she carries me the usual way, my stomach will get uncomfortable.
Even though I'm this full, I feel like I can't walk anymore.
When I stopped and looked down, the carpet at my feet was soft and fluffy.
"..."
...Maybe this spot is fine.
"Young Master Fran."
"Eek!"
When I turned around, Father's butler was there. Just like Father, the butler is super muscular.
The maid following me also bowed her head to the butler. He's an important person.
"Are you sleepy? You seemed to be swaying."
"Y- you were watching?"
"Yes, I've been observing from behind for a while."
Stop hiding your presence like that!
"Shall I carry you to your room?"
Ugh... I'm not fond of being carried by the muscular guy. Father is also super hard and stiff... But I'm so sleepy now... so...
Before I knew it, I was wobbling over to the butler. My hands automatically made the pose for being carried.
"Yes, please..."
"Understood."
I must have fallen asleep right after the butler carried me, half-conscious.
When I woke up, I had slept soundly in my bed until evening.
I thought to myself how much I'm really indebted to the servants.
*********************************
____________________________
Special Chapter 1: People Around Me
I've been working for the Triaina family for 26 years and have served as the head chef for the last four years.
Six years ago, I was assigned to be in charge of Young Master Fran, the third son of the Triaina family. At that moment, I felt slightly discouraged, thinking I had veered off the path of career advancement. However, to be honest, the idea of researching food for an infant seemed interesting.
Young Master Fran was a very picky eater, and after he graduated from milk, I struggled with his meals.
"Waaah!"
"Fran, if you don't eat, you'll starve and die!"
"Waaah... Noooo!"
Even when the Master tried to soothe him, he was still just a toddler. I vividly remember the giant figure of the Master watching in dismay as little Fran lay his head on the table, refusing to eat, while all the servants cheered him on.
Young Master Fran had very specific preferences, not only with meat but also with fruits and vegetables. There were some foods he would eat, and others that he'd reject after just one bite, refusing to touch them ever again.
The fact that Young Master Fran wouldn't eat was a serious issue. People said we needed to find the cause as soon as possible because it could be dangerous. Alongside the head chef at the time, I spent days experimenting and trying different things.
Amidst my anxious attempts to serve various dishes, the only thing Young Master Fran consistently ate was apples. Day and night, I would grate apples, boil them in broth, and sometimes even pair them with meat or vegetables, constantly thinking of ways to ensure Young Master Fran got enough nutrition.
"It smells baaad..."
One day, Young Master Fran took a bite of the Hornbull meat dish I served with apples and, while quietly sobbing, swallowed the food.
At that moment, I finally understood the reason behind his picky eating. Most likely, Young Master Fran disliked the taste of monster meat.
In this country, monster meat is commonly consumed because it has been domesticated and is a staple in our diets. It is highly nutritious and an excellent ingredient, as it allows people to absorb the magical power it contains. Many fruits are also harvested from forests where monsters reside, and thus they are likely influenced by the monsters' magical energy to some degree.
In contrast, the apples served here are grown on the estate, far from any monsters, ensuring they aren't affected by their presence.
From that day on, my research intensified. After all, meat from monsters, rich in magic, is indispensable for nobles who use magic, as it is said to help increase their magical power. Without it, they might not be able to enhance their abilities.
In a desperate attempt to get Young Master Fran to eat it, I devised the "apple pie disguise plan."
Young Master Fran is very honest, and if something looks like a sweet apple pie, he won't check the contents before taking one or two bites. Since he would swallow whatever he put in his mouth, I started processing fruits from the forest, making them look like apple pies, and serving them during his tea time, when his appetite was strongest.
The plan succeeded, and instead of frowning deeply like an adult every time he ate, Young Master Fran smiled brightly and eagerly requested apple pie.
"It's delicious!" he said with a grin.
As I watched Young Master Fran eat with his round cheeks cupped in his hands, a pang of guilt gnawed at me. However, thanks to this strategy, he gradually became able to eat more regular meals, and everyone felt relieved.
This success led to my promotion, and when Young Master Fran was two years old, I succeeded the previous head chef. Despite my new role, I still personally attend to Young Master Fran during his favorite tea time, entrusting my other duties to my subordinates.
"Young Master, how does today's dish taste?"
As always, Young Master Fran happily enjoys his pie made with berries and herbs. Two pieces are more than enough for him.
In response to my question, he took another bite, carefully savoring it, swallowed, and then paused for a moment, as if suddenly realizing something.
"...Ah! This isn't apple pie! Ughhh!"
That's when my most important task during tea time comes into play: to bring Young Master Fran's beloved apple pie at full speed as a reward for his efforts.
****************
When our youngest, Fran, was born, I think Mother had resigned herself to a certain fate.
As expected, Fran grew up without knowing her. I heard that a woman named Kitty, who had been one of Father's subordinates and a member of the knights, was assigned as his personal maid, but even then, I wasn't particularly interested.
By the time Fran was three, I had taken on both knight training and the studies required of the family's heir, leaving me with little time to even know my younger brother's face.
On a rare day off, after indulging in a long nap, I decided to go outside to get some exercise. On my way, I encountered a group of maids.
About five or six maids were standing still in the middle of the staircase.
"What are you all doing?"
I called out from above, and noticed a small bundle placed in the center of the staircase where they stood.
"What is that? It's in the way."
"Our apologies, Stefan-sama."
Rather than apologize, shouldn't they just move the bundle? That thought crossed my mind as I looked closer.
"...Is that Fran?"
"Yes."
There, curled up like a cat warming its paws on a winter day, was my little brother Fran, sound asleep, perfectly fitting within the width of the staircase steps.
I thought he was almost three years old, but how on earth did he end up falling asleep here? I glanced over at the overly muscular maid, who bowed her head slightly and explained the situation, though I found it hard to follow.
"He seemed to get tired from running outside, so he was on his way back to his room... But then he mentioned how soft the carpet was, declared that he would sleep here and proceed to his room once he woke up, and, well... he fell asleep right here."
"...Just carry him to his room."
Since I went outside right after, I don't know how they carried him, but either way, I thought he was an unusual child.
Even after that, I occasionally saw Fran asleep in odd places—hallways, in front of doors, and once even at the very top of the stairs. The only time I saw him awake was in the sunny garden.
At one point, Fran was sitting at a table, waving his arms excitedly about something.
When I opened the window in the hallway, I heard him yell:
"Nooooo! Run! Now! Dash!"
It looked like he was chasing after the chef. While the chef hurriedly dashed back to the kitchen, Fran helped himself to the pie on the table. I wondered what had upset him, though he seemed to be happily devouring the food.
Maybe my little brother had a bit of a temper.
When Fran turned five, I heard he got a swordsmanship instructor. It might be good training for his temper. Swordsmanship requires focus and mental discipline.
Around that time, I began spending more time at the knight's barracks, leaving me with even less time at home. Though we belonged to a noble family, gaining recognition through combat achievements was highly regarded in this country, so training was rigorous.
One day, after returning home exhausted, I heard the sound of a child's voice coming from the training grounds. It was a bit of a detour to my room, but I decided to check it out.
"Aaaaahhh!"
Fran was rolling across the dirt, tumbling over and over. His elderly swordsmanship instructor stood nearby, laughing.
"Ho ho! Still a long way to go!"
"One more time! ...Hyaa!"
"Come on, try again."
Clang!
The instructor's sword playfully knocked away Fran's, and...
"Ughhh!"
Fran rolled dramatically across the ground, even though there wasn't much impact. It was clear he was rolling on his own.
"Phew! That's enough for today!"
"Yes, understood. Make sure to take a proper bath now."
...What kind of training is this?
I stood there, dumbfounded, when Fran noticed me. He waved his hands excitedly. How was I supposed to react to that? Our second brother, Sevran, never moved around like that so energetically.
Fran, covered in mud, came running over to me.
"Big brother Stefan!"
"Ah."
"I was training!"
"Uh, yeah... Go take a bath. You need to wash off all that dirt."
"Yeees~!"
With that, my younger brother was effortlessly hoisted over the shoulder of the large maid and carried away without any protest.
Watching him disappear, I inexplicably massaged my aching temples.
...Dealing with my little brother seemed like it was going to be a challenge. That was my honest thought at the time.